


Keen Lessons That Love Deceives

by pxncey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Excessive tea drinking, Force Bond (Star Wars), Implied Master/Padawan Relationship(s), M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-05-31 20:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6486949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxncey/pseuds/pxncey





	Keen Lessons That Love Deceives

_Six_

"Quigee," Obi Wan reached up, his small hands grabbing at the air in front of his bondmate. "Quigee!"

Qui-Gon couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at the little boy's joy. He wrapped his arms securely around Obi-Wan, and lifted him up to hold him close, the young boy perched on his hip with his legs wrapped around the man's waist to keep him in place. Obi-Wan fisted his hands in his master's loose robes, and smiled brightly. He was far younger that Qui-Gon's first Padawan, and far more difficult to handle at times, but their bond—through the short time the two of them had been together—remained consistently stronger than any Qui-Gon had ever experienced before.

The child squealed happily and buried his face in Qui-Gon's neck, nuzzling close to him. He closed his eyes and loosened his hands in the man's robes, and his undeveloped but strong mind disappeared into the Force, and sending carefully formed waves of _lovelovelove_ to Qui-Gon. With a smile, Qui-Gon replied vocally. "I care for you too, young Padawan." He ruffled the boy's hair, and carried him down the corridor to the training room where Obi-Wan's meditation session with Yoda was soon to take place.

_ Fourteen _

Only a year had Obi-Wan been allowed to accompany Qui-Gon on missions, and as nothing but an assistant (by order of the council—if it was Qui Gon's choice his padawan would have been made a full Jedi in a heartbeat). But within six months, for boy proved himself fully capable, and had been granted the rank and the freedom of a Jedi, much to his master's pride.

As per usual, Qui-Gon had been sent well out of area for his mission, and had stayed with Obi-Wan in the ship nearby to the base once their long journey was over and night had fallen. Morning had come, and meditation was nigh. Qui-Gon stirred on the sleeping mat he'd laid out in the evening, feeling a soft subconscious nudge in the force from his young padawan. He awoke and sat up to see Obi-Wan across the room, sitting cross legged on the grated floor quietly making tea. His robes were folded neatly beside his mat; he wore only his tunic with long cotton leggings. It was uncharacteristically warm on the ship, and Qui-Gon too found himself shrugging off his hooded robe. Obi-Wan shifted at the noise, and scratched lightly at the short hair gathered at the nape of his neck beside his padawan braid. "Good morning, master. I don't suppose you've been awake for long?"

Qui-God laughed warmly. "I'm not sure what you're insinuating there, but no, I just woke."

Obi-Wan lifted one of the two cups and turned to pass it to Qui-Gon. A small smile quirked on his mouth. "Nothing, of course, my master."

Qui-Gon took the tea, and patted Obi-Wan's shoulder amicably. A fond warmth flourished in his chest, startlingly strong, and he pushed it down with worried violence, and set his tea down on the ground to shake his head and steady himself. Perhaps he was coming down with something. He had not been vaccinated recently and this area was foreign and full of pesky little poison bugs. He had a rather sickly feeling he knew what it truly was, though.

Qui-Gon walled a rather solid shield around his feelings for Obi-Wan as consistently as he could from then onwards. Obi-Wan passed off the mild offence that came with the block from any of Qui-Gon's emotions and simply assumed that his master must not have much attachment to him and care for him only out of obligation. As soon as he decided this, he rather forcefully pushed down his infatuation with his gentle master as best he could. But he was young, and his obsession for the man was unfortunately overwhelming, and he found it often spilling over into view when he saw Qui-Gon laugh, or when a dangerous situation would leave Qui-Gon no choice but to touch his padawan to keep him safe, or when they were on a mission and had little space and time to retreat to separate rooms to change their robes. It wasn't like Obi-Wan would ogle his master—his feelings for the man weren't like that. He admired his body, but it was the least of his focus—and that was probably what worried him the most.

_ Seventeen _

At seventeen years old, Obi-Wan suffered the worst period of his life so far. He found himself rather in despair about the rate at which his feelings for his master were intensifying. Every day he feared it would be irreversible. He was becoming distracted from his training and his missions, and was on the fast track to failing, and Qui-Gon could sense it, despite the blocks his padawan put up—of course, Qui-Gon couldn't sense the cause, he just assumed it was the pressure of the responsibilities Obi-Wan was suddenly being entrusted with.

The night after a failed mission in their hotel room, far from the Jedi Temple, after his meditation Qui-Gon found his Padawan sitting in a twisted position on his master's sleeping mat, staring at the wall and looking uncharacteristically tumultuous.

Qui-Gon knelt beside him. "Do you want to be left alone, my padawan?"

"No," Obi-Wan said, rather determinedly. "I need—I need." He struggled to grasp the words, but Qui-Gon understood enough.

He enveloped the younger boy in his arms, and Obi-Wan pressed his forehead against Qui-Gon's shoulder and folded himself up in the shield of his master's body. Qui-Gon patted his head, humming to calm the boy down in his favourite way.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said after some time. "I've let you down."

Qui-Gon tried to trick himself that he didn't feel a flare of emotion at his dear boy's pain. "You could never let me down, Padawan," he said, intent on keeping his voice steady and remaining reassuring for Obi-Wan's comfort. He pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan's forehead, and let his hand rest on the back of his neck. Qui-Gon knew that lying to oneself was the path to lying to others, but he had little other choice.

 _Lovelovelove_ , Obi-Wan passed through the bond, and Qui-Gon sent back firm care through the force, patting the boy's hair.

Jedi didn't normally speak their affection—(Affection wasn't attachment. Affection was acceptable.)—it was always through their bonds, if they were lucky enough to be blessed with them, that they would show emotion. It came through stronger when you could really feel it. But Obi-Wan was intent on expressing himself in solid words. Solid, honest words: he wanted to show what he had realised, deep underneath what he showed to Qui-Gon through the bond, under his surface emotions. Despite his uncertainty, the words came out of his mouth formed clearly, clearer than he could ever hear them in his head. "Love," Obi-Wan said. "I love you."

Qui-Gon's breathing remained steady, and his gentle grip on the boy's shoulder did not falter. His chest was doing a rather uncharacteristic swirling thing, but he gave it all he could not to dwell on it.

"Quigee." Obi-Wan sounded nervous. He was far too exposed like this, he was showing attachment, he was plainly revealing his divergence from the Jedi code.

Love, Qui-Gon echoed. But it wasn't a confirmation, nor a response. He couldn't grasp what he should say. "My padawan," he said carefully. "Is this why you've been so distracted lately?"

"Yes, master." Qui-Gon had never seen Obi-Wan in such a state as he was in now. His face was crumbling, and hands trembled, and even the bond was shaken.

"It seemed like your mind was elsewhere," Qui-Gon said quietly.

"It was with you," Obi-Wan replied, bravely meeting his master's eyes again. His voice was resigned. "Always with you."

Qui-Gon rested his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. A quiet moment went by—and Obi-Wan knew. He closed himself off, rose to standing, and left the room, for the sake of his dignity. Qui-Gon remained lying down, for the sake of his heart.

_ Nineteen _

Qui-Gon slept restlessly, something unusual of a Jedi—but he supposed that it wasn't typical to be completely emotionally invested in your padawan either.

His sleeping mat was small, built only for the rest of one sturdy Jedi, and to its purpose it was comfortable—but Qui-Gon missed when Obi-Wan was small and he would crawl in and sleep beside him, despite how cramped and chilly it was.

Love was not the focus of his life, nor would it ever be. He did not need to be loved, or to be touched. He knew they were just insubstantial desires, and he would live a fruitful life as any other Jedi if he was deprived of them—but he _wanted_.

Qui-Gon had been unfortunately certain that he had loved his padawan for three years, at the very least. All the nights he could, for three years, he had been counting down the days until Obi-Wan would be of the proper age according to Galactic Law, and he would be able to hold him again without disgracing the Code.

Relationships were to be abhorred, but they were not banned, so long as the participants were of age and the involvement did not distract from their duties.

Qui-Gon could. He knew he could hold his precious boy again, someday soon. And until then, he would imagine that it would make everything alright, even though that was not true, and love was not a cure, but a disease itself.

_ Twenty one _

Obi-Wan awoke on the morning of his twenty first birthday like it was any other day. He rose almost immediately after waking, and made tea, silently, and in the least lonesome way he could manage. It was hardly a day to celebrate when nothing would change, but that didn't mean that it would be appropriate to loiter around all morning.

Qui-Gon was appropriately careful for someone pursuing a love interest, and rather inappropriately overthinking for a Jedi, when he broke routine and washed before his morning tea and talk with his Padawan. His mind was unsettled in the best of ways, jolted with anticipation, but his voice and hands were steady as ever when he greeted Obi-Wan with a hand on his shoulder.

"Master," Obi-Wan said, with a strange look on his face. "I don't recall you ever being late for tea before."

"Apologies, my Padawan," Qui-Gon smiled, a teasing note in his voice. "My mind was elsewhere."

Qui-Gon sat beside Obi-Wan, and steadied him when he was close to dropping the teapot. They drank in a new type of silence: their thoughts overlapped, and no words were needed to bypass the carefully trained walls that were now vanished. Obi-Wan held his mug too tightly in his hand, and tried to clear through the mass of thoughts he knew he had to be fabricating himself. Qui-Gon placed his hand over his Padawan's, intended as a reassuring gesture, but Obi-Wan stiffened. _Feelingsconfusedwhereareyoumaster?_

The two of them had not spoken through the bond in this way in a long time. Qui-Gon's intense gaze softened, and he closed his eyes. Hereherealwayswithyou. His hand remained over Obi-Wan's, and he opened his eyes again. _Lovelovelove_.

Obi-Wan began to gather that his master's indifference over the years had been an illusion, but his feelings were so rooted within Qui-Gon that he could hardly tell his subconscious from his master's at all. _Overlappingsoconfusednevertell_.

 _Nevertellnever,_ Qui-Gon agreed. "Obi-Wan," he said aloud after a moment. "I'm sorry I hid my thoughts from you. It was only to protect you."

Obi-Wan didn't look up, but instead stared at their hands, touching, on the handle of the mug. "I understand."

"No—you must truly understand, Padawan. The Council would never have allowed you to continue training if they became aware of your feelings."

There was quiet for a brief space, and Obi-Wan set his mug down, freeing his hand from Qui-Gon's. He watched his tea stop trembling from the small impact of meeting the floor, and then, finally, met Qui-Gon's eyes. "I feel as though my feelings are overwhelming your true thoughts."

"You aren't challenging a Jedi master on his self awareness, are you?" Qui-Gon frowned, but Obi-Wan could feel the fondness, the care in his tone and in his heart—and although it was most certainly mutual, he could feel how separate it was from what he felt. Qui-Gon was making a point out of entirely separating his emotions towards Obi-Wan from the feelings they shared together through the bond and through the Force.

"Hardly," Obi-Wan said with a hint of a smile.

A peaceful quiet set over them for a while, and they sat together, familiarising the many foreign thoughts that were newly settling in their minds.

"Master," Obi-Wan said after a while. Qui-Gon opened his eyes, and looked at his Padawan. "Thank you for protecting me." Obi-Wan laid a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "And thank you for giving up that protection now."

Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan's braid in his hand: the symbol of his training in progress was soon to be cut off. He kissed Obi-Wan's temple, and spoke quietly, and honestly. "Thank you for believing that I could have done anything else."

There was little speaking after that, and all was well.

 


End file.
